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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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The Chastisement of War, 
and its Alleviations. 



The Chastisement of War, and its Alleviations: 



THANKSGIVING SEEMON 



PREACHED IN 



CHRIST M. E. CHURCH, 



PITTSBURGH, 



THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 18 )2. 



REV. WM. A^- SNIVELY, 



PASTOR OF THE CHURCH. 



PITTSBURGH : 

PRINTED BY W. S. HAVEN, CO'NER OF WOOD AND THIRD STREETS 

1862. 



^ .a 

SfoS 



riTTSBUi-GH, November 27th, 1862. 
Rev. Wm. a. Snively: 

Dear Sir — Your Sermon on Thanksgiving Day was listened to 
with pleasure. Its eloquent and patriotic sentiments will encourage all 
loyal hearts to see blessings — present and prospective — amid the apparent 
calamities of war. In this critical juncture of our Nation's life, the Govern- 
ment needs and expects a generous support from every lover of his country 
and race in all the efforts now putting forth to crush a mad and wicked 
rebellion against its benignant sway. Every interest of humanity, civili- 
zation and religion demands that it stops short of no sacrifice which will 
secure its triumph in this contest. Believing that your Sermon will help 
all who read it to bear more cheerfully the burdens of a war waged in be- 
half of free government and liberal principles, we respectfully request of 
you a copy for publication. 

Very truly, your humble servants, &c. 



John Moorhead, 
W. Vankirk, 
A. Bradley, 
Harry Shirlls, 
James Benney, Jr. 
S. B. M'Elroy, 
Ed. H. Gardner, 
Sam. Gray, 



R. E. Sellers, 
Saml. M. Kier, 
G. Metzgar, 
Thos. Little, Sr. 
Jno. Fullerton, 
J. C. Northrop, 
James N. Kean, 



Alle'j Kramer, 
w. m'cutcheon, 
Jos. Horne, 
N. Holmes, 
H. T. Coffey, 
F. Sellers, 
J. W. Barebb. 



Christ Church, November 29, 1862. 
Messrs. H. T. Coffey, Jno. Moorhead, Allen Kramer, and others: 

Dear Brethren — The object of my discourse on Thanksgiving 
Day was lo strengthen our hearts in support of the Government, and to 
demonstrate the fact that even amid the calamities of war there is abun- 
dant cause for gratitude to God. 

If that object can be better subserved by its publication, I cheerfully 
place the manuscript at your disposal. 

Very truly, your Pastor, 

Wm. a. Snively. 



SERMON. 



"No CHASTENING FOR THE PRESENT SEEMETH TO BE JOYOUS BUT GRIEV- 
OUS; NEVERTHELESS, AFTERWARD IT YIELDETH THE PEACEABLE FRUIT 
OF RIGHTEOUSNESS UNTO TUEM WHICH ARE EXERCISED THEREBY." 

Heb. xii. 11. 

It has been customary in the American pulpit to 
make Thanksgiving Day an occasion for the utter- 
ance of patriotic sentiment and exultant declama- 
tion. Coming, as it does, in the middle of the week, 
and set apart, as it is, for festivity, the day has been 
seized upon as a fitting time in which the minister 
might overstep the ordinary limitations of pulpit 
discourse, and tear away from the straight-laced 
conventionality in which he is ordinarily bound. 
The result has been a very liberal parading of the 
American eagle, and even, as Emerson says, of that 
more dangerous bird, the American peacock, too. 
Hail Columbia has been the theme, and the most 



magnificent destinies have been logically prophesied 
for the American people. 

These were the amusements and recreations of 
peace. But sterner facts look us in the face to-day. 
A shade of sadness tempers the gayety of the thanks- 
giving scene, and a deeper solemnity pervades the 
hearts of a thanksgiving congregation. Nero fid- 
dled while Rome was burningj but it would ill be- 
come a Christian man to degrade his national day 
of gratitude into an occasion of thoughtless vapor- 
ing, of wordy patriotism, or of idle mirth. While 
the hand on the dial-plate of time is moving with 
such tremendous strides, it behooves us rather to 
pause and reverently to listen, for in doing so we 
shall hear the footsteps of Grod. 

We stand face to face, to-day, with the sternest 
and most awful fact of a nation's life — the fact of 
civil war ; and, therefore, we must be sober. But, 
also, we are no cowards upon the one hand, nor in- 
fidels upon the other — and therefore we may rejoice. 
If we feared to meet the issues of our national life, 
as we should do if we were cowards ; or if we had 
no trust in God, as we should not if we were infi- 
dels, then this day would be, indeed, a day of gloom, 
and our thanksgiving would be a mockery. But a 



nation that trusts in God, and is not afraid to defend 
the right, may pause even amid the disasters of war 
and the work of death, to remember that there is a 
God, Avho presides over the destinies of nations, and 
to thank him for his care. 

In looking for the special causes of thanksgiving 
which we are to remember to-day, all hearts natu- 
rally turn to our national life. But we shall speak 
of this last, this morning — though, indeed, the vi- 
rus of war has so entered into the very life-blood of 
the nation, that it will inevitably be the undertone 
of every suggestion and the modifying power of 
ever}^ fact. Let us rather commence, however, in 
the narrower circle of our own domestic and com- 
munity life, to discern, if we may, the tokens of 
God's kindness and care with which he has sur- 
rounded us here; and then we may pass to the wider 
sphere of our nation's life and trial and work. 

To gain some clear conception of our present 
actual position as a people, let us suppose that an 
intelligent and discriminating foreigner should be 
suddenly placed in our midst. We will suppose 
that he has not read the newspapers of the last 
eighteen months, and that his chief knowledge of 
the American people consists in the fact that west 



of the Atlantic there is a great and growing nation, 
which, though not a century old, stands as a first- 
class power in the earth, and which is thus already 
a giant in its youth. The first thought that would 
present itself to his mind, would doubtless be the 
wonderful activity of our life, and the unequaled 
prosperity that surrounds us. He would see no 
beggars in the streets, and but few idlers on the 
corners; everywhere around him would be the signs 
of a busy and working people. As he comes to in- 
vestigate the statistics of our commerical wealth, he 
would see men absorbed in business, and making 
money with a speed they never made it before. In 
our domestic life, he would see women — wives and 
mothers — as contented and happy as ever Roman 
matron might hope to be. As he passes from place 
to place, he would see rail road trains fairly break- 
ing down under the immense tides of freight and 
travel that pass over them ; and amid all this pros- 
perity and wealth, the only singular fact that would 
strike his observation as not being in harmony with 
the general appearance of things, would be, that here 
and there, and, indeed, everywhere, he should see 
men clad in the uniform and bearing the weapons 
of a soldier's life. He asks an explanation of the 



fact — Are these the police of the nation ? — when, to 
his utter surprise, he is informed that we are in the 
midst of a civil war. He would at first conclude 
that our civil war must be a very small affair. He 
is informed that a million of men are fi^-htino- for 
the Government, and three-quarters of a million are 
in rebellion against it — that this loyal part of the 
country is now sustaining a blockade of thousands 
of miles of sea-coast — and that its line of pickets 
extends from the Atlantic to the Mississippi. 

You may well imagine the astonishment with 
which such a statement would be received. "Why," 
he would answer, "I have read of civil war, and its 
outward token has been desolated villages and cities 
wrapped in flames, children put to torture and wo- 
men to shame ; and where the tread of contending 
armies has gone, there homes have been deserted, 
business 2:)rostrated — suffering and even famine have 
come, and death has held his carnival. There must 
be some mistake." " No," you reply, " it is true. 
Thrice three hundred thousand of our brothers are 
already in the field, and before the deatli--struggle of 
the Government comes, thrice three hundred thou- 
sand more are willing to go ; and, to let you behind 
the scene in our domestic life, there is not a village 



10 

nor a hamlet in the land in which there is not a 
Rachel mourning for her children, and refusing to 
be comforted, because they are not." 

You may imagine, again, that man's astonishment 
as he sees such prosperity and abundance standing 
side by side with the dread and terrible fact of war. 
And yet that stranger's astonishment should be the 
standard of our gratitude to-day; and our reflections, 
to be adequate to the occasion, must commence at 
this point. We must bring ourselves to realize, if 
we can, that notwithstanding the presence of war, 
the greater part of our national dominion is as pros- 
perous and happy as ever it has been. The area of 
the rebellion is suffering, indeed, in an exhausted 
land and in the almost starvation prices of the few 
accessible necessaries of life ; and it is getting only 
what it might have anticipated, and that not as much 
IS it richly deserves. 

A broad belt of border territory — the wheat-fields 
of Virginia, the pasture-lands of Kentucky and the 
plains of Missouri — are paying to-day the penalty 
of a miserable neutral policy, and their refusal of 
hearty support to the Government ; but the loyal 
territory of the United States is comparatively pros- 
perous and happ3\ England, with her silent cotton- 



11 

mills and starving operatives, is suffering more from 
this war to-day than we are, ourselves. 

I have heard men profanely say within the past 
fortnight, What have we to be thankful for ? Rather 
let us ask, What is there of which we should com- 
plain? What is there that we really need, of which 
we have not an abundance? Why, even the strin- 
gency of our commerical aifairs, and the prospect 
of heavy taxes as internal revenue, has hardly be- 
gun to trench upon our luxuries as yet, much less 
upon the necessaries of life. Your tables and your 
wardrobes, your ledgers and your bank accounts, 
will tell of anything but stringency and want ; and 
the very scarcity of coin is itself the proof that 
there is an abundance of it somewhere, and that it 
is only out of circulation because it is held in re- 
serve for future exigencies. 

The prosperity of the American people during the 
last eighteen months — the immense resources and 
inventions of war which they have developed — the ac- 
tivity of their business life at the same time, the suc- 
cess of their agricultural interests, and withal their 
cheerfulness and buoyancy and faith amid the in- 
evitable reverses of their arms — will stand out as 
the paradox of history in the future ; and it is to- 



12 

day the grandest demonstration the world has ever 
seen, of our greatness as a people, and of the re- 
sources with which God has endowed us. 

I suppose it would scarcely be necessary to stop 
here to prove that the present war is a chastisement 
of God for our national sins. Jehovah's four sore 
scourges for a rebellious people are these — Plague, 
Famine, Earthquake and War. There are times in 
every nation's life, when God unsheaths the sword, 
cither to carve its destiny or to execute its doom. 

It is a recognized principle of history'-, that nations 
receive the punishment of their sins in the present 
world. This is necessary to the perfect administra- 
tion of the Divine Government, as nations have no 
organic existence in the world to come. Their 
virtue and their sin are therefore rewarded or 
punished here, and thus the page of history be- 
comes God's record of a nation's goodness or a na- 
tion's crime. Now, if the present war is thus a 
chastisement of God, two things are certain. First, 
that it must be so universal in its effects as to be 
recognized as such ; and second, that its practical 
recognition as such should be fraught with suffering 
and distress. "Xo chastening for the present seemeth 
to be joyous but grievous." And the fact that de- 



13 

mancls our profoiindest gratitucle to-day, is this — 
that God has sent the ministry of suffering and dis- 
tress so gently in our midst, and that the very rod 
with which he has chastised us, has been tempered 
in its strokes by love. 

!N"ow there are three methods by which the fact of 
war as a chastisement of God is brouo-ht home dis- 
tinctly and directly to every individual. They are, 
by actual participation in, or contact with, the war; 
or, by the loss of friends and brothers; or, by bearing 
the inevitable financial burden of the war, whose most 
unwelcome shape is taxes. And by one of these 
three methods God is bringing home the war to 
every man, woman and child in the land. And yet, 
in the mercy of God, each of these methods of apply- 
ing the chastisement of war to us, is fraught with 
mitigations that more than half relieve them of their 
terrible sting. Even in our chastisements, God is 
tempering judgment with mercy. 

Our brethren in arms, for example, are brav- 
ing the shock of the war. They have left weeping 
hearts at home, to brave the fatigues of the camp 
and the dangers of the field. Tenderly-reared youths 
share with brawny men the hardships of a soldier's 
life ; and they who in childhood could scarcely go to 



14 

rest without a mother's watchful care, have learned 
to sleep on the hard ground beneath the autumn 
frost and the early winter's snow, on the banks of 
the Potomac. They have cheerfully accepted a life 
which for hardship and lack of comfort is far more 
severe than that of even the criminals in our peni- 
tentiary, and with it the dread possibility that each 
reveille which calls them from their rest, may be 
the last they shall ever hear on earth. 

And yet, hard as the lot appears to be, there are 
alleviations connected with it which make even the 
hardship sweet. Never have soldiers had such in- 
spirations as the army of the Union has. All that 
is glorious in the past — all that is precious in the 
present — all that is bright and hopeful in the fu- 
ture, centre in the cause to which they have pledged 
their lives. Why was it that, before the Government 
had exhausted the patriotism of the people, thou- 
sands and tens of thousands were begging simply 
the privilege of fighting for the Union ? Why did 
men rush to the life of arms and the death of battle, 
with an enthusiasm that was little less than heroic ? 
It was because the patriotic instincts of the nation 
had been aroused. The fires of the Revolution, 
which had slumbered in many hearts, burst forth 



15 

anew when the hour of danger came, and the occa- 
sion demonstrated that the American people could 
fight as well as boast. And the treasured inspira- 
tions of a sacred past — the memories of Lexington, 
and Bunker Hill, and Valley Forge — the very dignity 
of American citizenship, combined to make sacrifice 
for the nation heroic, and death itself sublime. 

In regard to actual contact with the war, and im- 
munity from it, there is this singular fact — that 
no district of our country that has been staunchly 
loyal has sufi"ered from the actual presence of war. 
The only possible exception to this is East Tennes- 
see, and even there the poison of the rebellion had 
spread so fearfully as to make the minority despe- 
rate, and even to necessitate the innocent to suffer 
with the guilty. 

The States that have wavered in their allegiance 
have reaped their reward in desolated homes and 
down-trodden fields, and in the shock of arms that 
has brought distress, if not death, into every house- 
hold. Virginia, once the mother of Presidents, has 
fallen so low, that there are " none so poor to do her 
reverence" now. She consented to be the cat's-paw 
of Southern conspirators, and of course she could 
only be burnt, Kentucky, with her hunters and her 



16 

riflemen — with the memories of Daniel Boone and 
his fearless companions, occupies to-day a humiliating 
position before the world. With all her bravery, 
she has done just nothing to support the Govern- 
ment ; and while in other wars the names of her 
sons have been written high in the roll of fame, 
to-day they are, with but a few glorious exceptions, 
unmentioned and unknown. And why ? Because 
the youth of Kentucky embarked in the rebellion, 
and hundreds of the Union men who staid at home 
had an "if" to their loyalty ; and when the Govern- 
ment was struggling for its very life, and the Capital 
itself was threatened, Kentucky — 0! shame — would 
forsooth be neutral. And she has her reward. Mis- 
souri — divided, torn and broken from the first — is 
little better than a wilderness now ; and even Mary- 
land is i^aralyzed in her commerce, as if in punish- 
ment for her connivance with rebellion and her 
apology for wrong. And the singular fact is pa- 
tent to every thinking man, that no heartily loyal 
part of the country has been visited by the actual 
presence of war. 

Is there nothing to be thankful for in this? Is it 
nothing, that your homes are safe — your business 
undisturbed — your city untouched by fire or sword? 



17 

Is it nothing, that your fears have not been realized 
that the enemy's cannon should be planted on the 
summit of the hills that command your city ? Is it 
nothing, that your fields have borne a more than 
average crop ; and that your wives and children 
have not been driven from their homes at midnight 
to face the winter's storm, and to flee from an ad- 
vancing foe ? 

But, then, if we have enjoyed such immunity from 
the actual presence and contact of war, many have 
lost their friends in battle, and the widow's sighing 
and the orphan's tear are heard and seen through- 
out the land. And that is true. Our brothers have 
fallen — nobly fallen, and many more shall yet fall 
before this terrible conflict is over. But is there 
no consolation for all that? Death is always terri- 
ble, it is true, but death upon the field of battle loses 
half its stino-. Our brothers have fallen — not in re- 
bellion against a mild and beneficent government, 
but in its defense ; and their voluntary sacrifice of 
self and life and all that was dear to them on earth, 
is but the humble following of that greater example 
of One 'Svho gave himself a ransom for all." Af- 
fection will weep for the unreturning brave, but its 
tears will be assuaged by the remembrance of lofty 

2 



18 

achievement and heroic deed. A grateful nation cher- 
ishes their memory, unborn generations shall learn 
to lisp their names, and the liberties of the people 
shall be their lasting monument. Is there nothing 
in this to dissipate the terror of death ? And shall 
we weep over our brothers, when their mausoleum 
is a nation's heart? 

There is one other method in which the war 
reaches us as a chastisement, viz. in respect of fi- 
nancial cost. Hitherto this has assumed the form of 
voluntary contribution, and never has history re- 
corded so grand a spectacle of merchant-princes and 
banking institutions coming to the relief of a gov- 
ernment. The relief funds, and soldiers' aid socie- 
ties, and sanitary commissions, and subsistence com- 
mittees, have done a glorious work — and the people 
have replenished their coffers so fast as they became 
exhausted. The springs of liberality were, touched 
by some mysterious influence, and even men who 
had nothing to give to the cause of God and his 
church, had hundreds to give to the country. Let 
us be thankful, at least, that in such cases patriotism 
could accomplish what piety failed to do. 

But the financial cost of the war is rapidly trans- 
forming itself into another shape, and the mutterings 



19 

of discontent are already heard on account of pros- 
pective taxes. That is a phase of our national 
chastisement which will touch the tenderest spot in 
many a man's heart — and let us be thankful for it. 
For there can be no doubt that our deepest national 
sin is avarice. Making haste to be rich is the all- 
absorbing life. Greed for gain is our idol, and 
Mammon too often our god. It is this which lies 
at the root of the traditional curse of slavery in one 
portion of the country, and the tyranny of capital 
over labor in another ; and to its fearful growth God 
is giving us the healthful check in the taxes we shall 
be called to pa}^ 

And yet there are alleviations even here, for in 
regard to taxes, two things are absolutely certain : 
First, that those who have no property will have no 
tax to pay upon it ; and second, those who have pro- 
perty would find but little comfort in that fact, if 
not protected in its possession by the limitations of 
justice and the majesty of law. 

What if the men of the nation, or even the law- 
less of the nation, banded together as guerrillas — 
as they surely would in a state of anarchy — where 
would be the safety for property, or even for life it- 
self? And if, when we pay our taxes, we remember 



20 

that we are paying only for our safety, it will not, I 
am sure, be so unwelcome a task. Better a man 
should give the half of all he has and all he gets, 
than that the whole should be taken ruthlessly from 
him. Yes, but, it is said, it did not use to cost us 
taxes for the National Government. 'No, my friend, 
it did not, and there was just the difficulty. Men 
do not prize very highly what costs them nothing! 
And when we come to the actual and direct support 
of the Government, we shall appreciate more highly 
the value of our free institutions and the untold 
blessings which they bring. 

Thus, in one form or another, the chastisement of 
tho sword comes to us all, but as yet it comes with 
alleviations that temper its severity, as if God were 
saying to the American people, "In a little wrath 
I hid my face from thee for a moment, but with 
everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee." 

I should be glad, if time permitted, to trace this 
morning the probable results of the v/ar as a na- 
tional discipline, and to discern some of the fruits 
of righteousness which sliall be yielded aftervrard 
to them which are exercised thereby. I shall mere- 
ly allude to these in conclusion. 

There is no doubt that in addition to the actual 



21 

discipline which the war is giving us as a nation, 
that there are certain truths now being demonstra- 
ted, and certain errors refuted, whose final record 
could be written only in blood. There used to be a 
motto of commercial life, that Cotton is king. That 
heresy has been exploded. 'No one staple product 
can be king. If so, Corn would be king rather than 
Cotton. But Cotton is not so great a king to-day 
as Blockade, and the commercial world is learning 
that it is the just and even balance of the products 
of a nation — not one staple alone — that constitutes 
its power. The world can not remain under the 
dominion of a monopol}^, and the utterances of our 
history are declaring in the hearing of the nations, 
that man is greater than cotton, and virtue greater 
than coin. The onward marching of our nation's 
life, even through the sea of blood, is not the moving 
of a car of Juggernaut to crush and to destroy ; it is 
rather the onward progress of the chariot of civili- 
zation, as it bears humanity to its destined goal. 

It is a maxim of church history, that the blood of 
the martyrs is the seed of the churcli. It is equally 
true, that the lives of the patriots are the corner- 
stones of the state. JN^o nation can be strong with- 
out heroic memories in the past. It must have its 



99 



heroes and its battle songs. It must cherish its 
memories of struggle and blood and death. Its 
ballads must recount the achievements of the brave, 
and mourn their loss. And in a nation's heart, as 
in an everlasting urn, the names of patriot and hero 
and warrior must be kept, whose very memory will 
be an inspiration, and whose quenchless spirit will 
be a consecrated tie. 

And we are making such history to-day. Our 
patriot brothers are deepening and strengthening 
the nation's life. From every drop of blood, and 
from every soldier's grave, new truths shall spring, 
and higher hopes be born. The foundation of our 
Government was laid in the wisdom of the Revolu- 
tionary fathers, and when its superstructure shall 
be cemented by the best blood of the land, then, and 
not till then, will the Government be really strong, 
and then this national chastisement, which for the 
present seemcth, indeed, not joyous but rather griev- 
ous, shall have yielded the peaceable fruits of right- 
eousness to them which are exercised thereby. 

It is recorded in the legends of ancient Rome, that 
once a chasm opened in the midst of the forum, which 
soon threatened to engulf the whole city. They 
sought in vain to fill it, for as they cast in earth. 



23 

it still widened. At last the Oracle was consulted 
for a remedy, and the response was given that the 
chasm could never be closed until what was most 
precious in Rome had been cast therein. Instantly 
the Roman matrons brought their rarest jewels, but 
still the chasm yawned. The patricians brought 
forth their treasure, but it refused to be closed ; when 
Marcus Curtius, a tribune of the people, demanded 
of his countrymen if jewels and wealth were the 
most precious thing which Rome possessed. Ar- 
raying himself in his armor, he mounted his horse, 
and plunged into the chasm, and it closed over him 
forever. There was one thing in Rome more pre- 
cious than treasure or jewels — it was her manhood. 
Such a chasm has opened in America to-day, and it 
can never close until the iiower of American man- 
hood shall have been offered a sacrifice to its de- 
mand. Then it will close, and upon the very spot 
which now yawns so fearfully, the temple of our 
liberties will rise statelier and stronger than ever 
before. 

* :i: :i; i}: 

There is a darker side to the picture, it is true. 
A minor chord runs through the anthem of our 
thanksgiving to-day. There are eyes, whose blind- 



24 

ing tears will scarcely permit them to look np to 
heaven, and hearts whose burden of sorrow will feel 
no thrill of joy. The festivities and re unions of the 
day will be fraught with memories both tender and 
sad. In ten thousand homes an unreturning son 
will be remembered, and in many a household there 
will be a vacant chair that was not vacant a year 
ago. In the silent recesses of many a heart, to-day, 
a name v^'ill be spoken, and the tenderest love of 
that heart will find a shrine in some newly-made 
grave on the bloody field of Manassas, or Shiloh, or 
Anlietam, or amid the dark and tangled swamps of 
the Peninsula. But though they sleep their last 
sleep, and have fought their last battle, a Xation 
cherishes their memories, and repeats their names 
with the ardor of patriotic love. The liberties we 
enjoy were |jurchased by their struggle and toil and 
death, and from their ashes new hopes are spring- 
ing, and in their death a greater Future is born. 

"•To the licro, when his sword 

Has won tlie battle for the free, 
Death's voice sounds like a prophet's word ; 

And in its hollow tones are lieard 
The thanks of millions yet to be." 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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